


it's asking for the taking

by ShowMeAHero



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Canon Compliant, Coming Out, Confessional, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Fluff, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Internalized Homophobia, Light Angst, M/M, Missing Scene, Period-Typical Homophobia, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-15 00:08:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21244259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShowMeAHero/pseuds/ShowMeAHero
Summary: “It’s because— My— I went back to the arcade. That’s where I…” Richie looks away from Eddie’s face, at the dark wall. He can’t see the far end of it; it’s just infinite darkness, so it’s easy to stare into. “It’s the first time…” Richie shakes his head.“Richie,” Beverly says softly.“Fuck,” Richie says, voice breaking. He huffs a wet laugh. “I was so scared to say anything.”





	it's asking for the taking

**Author's Note:**

> First thought, best thought!
> 
> Inspired by [this tweet](https://twitter.com/richietozxer/status/1189667868972969984?s=19)!
> 
> Title taken from ["Let The River Run"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cv-0mmVnxPA) by Carly Simon.

As soon as Richie pulls the token out of his pocket, he can feel his friends’ eyes burning holes through it. He flips it between his fingers like he’s a magician who’s about to pull this coin out of someone’s ear.

“Voilà,” he says. He looks up and makes eye contact with Eddie, who frowns. Richie holds the arcade token up between his thumb and forefinger. “My token.” He tosses it into the fire, and Eddie’s brow furrows.

“Why did you have to bring a  _ literal  _ token? That’s going to take  _ forever  _ to burn,” Eddie complains. Richie shrugs, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets.

“So’s the plastic of your aspirator, dude,” Richie reminds him. Eddie’s face goes red, and he points at Richie, already halfway to furious. “It’s because— My— I went back to the arcade. That’s where I…” Richie looks away from Eddie’s face, at the dark wall. He can’t see the far end of it; it’s just infinite darkness, so it’s easy to stare into. “It’s the first time…” Richie shakes his head.

“Richie,” Beverly says softly.

“Fuck,” Richie says, voice breaking. He huffs a wet laugh. “I was so scared to say anything.”

“About what?” Bill asks. Richie glances at him. He’s so familiar, so warm; he can’t believe he ever forgot Bill.

“I did see Pennywise,” Richie confesses, “when I was a kid. I said I didn’t, but I— I didn’t want to explain it.”

“What happened, Rich?” Mike asks. Richie glances to him, then back to Eddie, to the creased concern in Eddie’s expressive face.

“Bowers caught me coming on to his cousin,” Richie says. “Chased me out of the arcade.”

“What’d you do to her?” Ben asks. Richie huffs a laugh.

“I, uhh, didn’t really do anything,” Richie says. His heart’s pounding, his hands sweating in fists in his pockets. He looks down into the flames, at his token slowly melting. “But— Bowers— That was the first time anyone said it to my face.”

“Said what, Richie?” Eddie pushes, when Richie doesn’t finish. Richie shakes his head, laughs. One tear slips down his face, and he wipes at it with the back of his wrist.

“Faggot,” he says. He could cut the air with a sword, it was so thick. Nobody said anything. “And fairy.” Richie kicks at a rock near his feet. “His cousin was a dude, by the way. I’m a fucking— I’m gay. I’m— I’m so sorry—”

“Richie, no,” Eddie says, and Beverly darts over to Richie, wrapping him up in her arms. Bill’s hand touches Richie’s back, then he’s pulling the both of them into his embrace, and then Richie’s at the center of his friends, wishing desperately that Stan was here, that he could’ve been brave enough to tell Stan while he was alive, and he starts to sob at the thought. A hand touches his face, and he blinks open his eyes to see Eddie looking at him.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Eddie tells him. “You hear me?  _ Nothing.” _

Richie huffs a teary laugh. “I was so afraid. Eds, I was  _ so  _ scared—”

“You don’t have to be scared anymore,” Eddie says, and Richie knows he means it. He  _ knows.  _ He turns his face into Eddie’s hand. “Richie. It’s okay.”

“Thank you,” Richie tells him. “I’m sorry I kept talking about fucking your mom when I should’ve been talking about fucking your dad.”

“My dead dad,” Eddie deadpans. “Classy. I’m glad you’re just as much of a fuckwad. See? Nothing fucking changes, we’re both out now and we—”

“What do you mean, ‘ _ we’re both out now,’  _ Eddie?” Richie asks. Bill pulls away, and then Bev, and then Richie’s left standing alone, looking down at Eddie as the firelight off the flames licks bright shadows across Eddie’s dirty face. Eddie glances nervously to Ben, then back to Richie.

“Uhh,” Eddie says. “I— thought you knew. I’m gay—”

“You have a  _ wife,”  _ Richie chokes.

“I’m leaving her,” Eddie says. “Or I— left her. Already. To come here, and I told her I wasn’t coming… back. Which is why I have all my stuff.” Eddie frowns. “What the fuck did you think I—”

“Eddie, please, I’m having a crisis that has been pretty much forty years in the making,” Richie whispers. He shuts his eyes, presses his hands flat over his face. “Eddie Kaspbrak, say the words, ‘I’m gay,’ to me.”

“I’m gay,” Eddie says. Richie can hear the smile in his voice.

_ “Eds,”  _ Richie breathes, his eyes snapping open. “My— Motherfucker— I carved our initials into the  _ Kissing Bridge,  _ you  _ dickhead.  _ When I was fucking, like,  _ thirteen—” _

“Richie,  _ I  _ carved our initials into the Kissing Bridge when I was fifteen,” Eddie tells him. Richie shakes his head, reaching up to grip his hair.

“You’ve got to be  _ kidding me,”  _ Richie shrieks, just as Eddie takes his wrists and pulls his hands down.

“Richie, I told you, you don’t have to be scared anymore,” Eddie tells him. His eyes dart down to Richie’s mouth, then back up, but Richie doesn’t miss it. He spent his formative years studying Eddie’s microexpressions and the tiniest motions of his body. He can read Eddie like a fucking  _ book.  _ “I’m not scared anymore, either.”

“Prove it,” Richie croaks, and Eddie kisses him, cupping Richie’s face in his hands and stretching up onto his toes to reach his mouth. Richie wraps his arms around Eddie, tugging him in tight and breaking the kiss so he can hug him, burying his face in Eddie’s hair and laughing tearfully.

“God, I hope we live,” Richie tells him.

“Me fucking too,” Eddie says, pulling back to kiss him again.

“I still have my—”

“Give me  _ two fucking minutes,”  _ Eddie snaps, turning back to Richie to lick into his mouth, his hands holding the back of Richie’s head so he can keep him in place as he kisses him deeper and deeper. Richie moans into his mouth, curving over Eddie until he feels the too-close flame lick up his hand, at which point he nearly drops Eddie as he shrieks and Eddie yelps, clutching him closer out of shock. “I  _ hate  _ you.”

“Oh, clearly,” Richie says, then kisses him again.

**Author's Note:**

> You can talk to me on Twitter at [@nicolelianesolo](https://twitter.com/nicoIodeon) or on Tumblr at [andillwriteyouatragedy](http://andillwriteyouatragedy.tumblr.com/).


End file.
